Recapturing the Song
by Soulful-Gray
Summary: Told by an old woman, it reveals the adventures of her youth, when she found out she was Elven kin and how she was to save worlds by recapturing the song. Not Mary Sue.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Tolkien's works, nor do I own the song "Into the West," although original characters of my own making do appear in this work of fiction. I hope you will respect what belongs to whom and not steal any of my ideas or characters or... hmm... kinda like the pot calling the kettle black, eh? ponders Yeah... I think you get what I mean.._

_Recapturing the Song_

_A Lord of the Rings Fan-Fiction_

_By: Soulful Gray_

_Prologue

* * *

_

"_Hope fades..._

_Into the world of night,_

_Through shadows falling,_

_Out of memory and time,_

_Don't say... _

_We have come now to the end,_

_White shores are calling,_

_You and I will meet again,_

_And you'll be here in my arms,_

_Just sleeping,_

_What can you see,_

_On the horizon?_

_Why do the white gulls call?_

_Across the sea,_

_A pale moon rises,_

_The ships have come to carry you home,_

_And all will turn,_

_To silver glass,_

_A light on the water,_

_Gray ships pass,_

_Into the west..."_

A gentle voice sang into the wind, letting the rise and fall of its tones be carried out into the open world, letting any who would listen the chance to catch a glimpse of the past in it words.

The lips that the song poured from were aged, and the lines from a lifetime of smiles branched from its corners. The were turned down in a sad frown as they moved over the words, and that frown could tell a thousand more stories than the song it sang.

Both song and mouth belonged to an older woman, seated comfortably on a window seat with the glass panes thrown wide open to invite the light and sounds of the coming night. The view was perfect, the sunset framed by tall cliffs and touched by the spray of the ocean, and the golden light turned red as the Sun made her way to light more of the world.

The woman was covered by an old and worn quilt that expertly pieced together by patient hands years before. It was a blend of gray and white, the gray patches made of a soft, unknown fabric and the white of silver-veined silk. The pillows she leaned against were patched in a similar fashion, but with more of the white.

She didn't appear to be as old as she was. Her skin was still firm and mostly smooth but for a few crows feet, and the obvious laugh-lines at eyes and mouth. Her hair was let loose and tumbled around her shoulders and a graceful neck, and the strands were shot with silver but still held onto locks of wonderful gold. She sat straight and didn't appear to notice her age. She wasn't so tired like so many others her age.

And her eyes danced.

That alone made her seem so many years younger.

Those amber depths twinkled in the sunset. While they matched her lips in sadness, a definite shine still remained that made anyone think she hid a secret, a deeply amusing tale that could never leave her mind, and therefore she was never really, truly sad.

"That was pretty, Aunt Gray."

The woman turned, her frown turning into a smile as her eyes found the person that had spoke.

"Wynnie," she said in greeting, smiling widely. "And how is my favorite great niece? I haven't seen you in a while"

Wynnie- or Eowyn as was her given name- just shrugged, looking around the room. "Not bad, I guess."

Aunt Gray smiled knowingly. "Come in dear and pull up a chair. You want to talk, don't you?"

Wynnie walked in, closing the door firmly behind her, and grabbed a comfortable chair that sat at a writing desk. She pulled it close and made herself comfortable next to Aunt Gray.

If someone looked close, they could see so many similarities between older and younger woman. They both had the same average height, and the same graceful necks. Their shoulders were delicate but strongly set and they had wide hips- although Wynnie's weren't as wide just yet- and their hair was the same straight gold. Their mouths were soft and nicely shaped, and could move over the words of a song beautifully.

And their eyes danced.

While Aunt Gray's eyes were amber, Wynnie's were blue, but both sets had a definite secret behind them. Both hid some untold story in their depths, but Aunt Gray's was one of past adventures, and Wynnie's was still unfolding and turning quickly for the worst.

"It's officially over," Wynnie blurted out suddenly, after a few moments of silence where Aunt Gray studied her thirteen-year-old niece. Tears started to mar the perfect blue of her eyes. "Mom and Daddy are getting a divorce!"

Aunt Gray shook her head sadly and opened her arms. Wynnie flew into them and began sobbing. In between sobs, she told her sad story, her secret, to her aunt.

"D-Daddy got a new girlfriend... hic and Mommy and I left, and sob now Daddy says he's going to sue for custody... And he says he's not going to let me see you again, EVER!"

Aunt Gray frowned into Wynnie's blond hair and started stroking her back to ease her hiccups. "Now why would he say a thing like that?"

"Because he says you're crazy." Wynnie drew away sharply. "You're not really crazy, are you Aunt Gray? Not really?"

At that, Aunt Gray couldn't help but chuckle. "To him maybe, but not to myself." She reached forward and wiped a few tears from Wynnie's cheeks.

"But Daddy keeps saying stuff like, 'That old bird, living in that mansion all by herself, still thinking she's some kind of hero, always going on about her so-called adventures. She's a lunatic, I tell you! I don't want my daughter exposed to that kind of madness!'" Wynnie had dropped her voice so that she could attempt imitating her father, and it was poorly done, but it got the point across.

Quirking an eyebrow at what her nephew-in-law had said about her, Gray snorted. What Wynnie had said was probably word-for-word, as she was quite a precocious child and fairly blunt to boot.

"Sticks and stones, Wynnie. So long as I am Easton Loretta Markus, all he is and all he says is only David Johansson."

Somehow, to Wynnie, those words made sense, and she cracked a smile.

"Where's your mother at then, dear girl? I haven't seen Ivy in while either."

"She's downstairs. Sent me to look for you." She giggled. "She still rants about why you don't have a doorbell."

Again, Aunt Gray snorted and chuckled afterward. "It's so when you come on a surprise visit, I'm not forewarned by an annoying chorus of Winstmester chimes."

"Westminster," Wynnie laughed.

Aunt Gray stuck out her tongue. "Whatever."

Ivy, who looked exactly like Aunt Gray as well- complete with amber eyes even-, was seated demurely at the bar in the kitchen, staring into a glass of milk she'd poured herself. She was in her thirties, and looked tired and haggard as she sat there, staring at the milk as if it weren't even there. She looked up when they entered and started crying. Aunt Gray opened her arms like she had with Wynnie and Ivy left her seat to fly into them.

Ivy was the only daughter of Joshua Markus, younger brother of Aunt Gray, and had come to live with Aunt Gray after her father and mother had died in a fire when she was twelve. She had married David at nineteen- against Aunt Gray's warnings- and had lasted a surprisingly long while, fifteen years. That union had produced Eowyn Easton Johansson. Her name had been taken from the memory of a story Aunt Gray had once told to Ivy when she was Wynnie's present age.

Aunt Gray held both her girls close to her and wished their pain would go away, so that their eyes would dance just as they always had.

Ivy was the first to pull away and sniffed a bit, offering a frail smile to her Aunt Gray.

"Not quite the way I'd planned on greeting you on my next visit," Ivy laughed brokenly.

"Nonsense, Vine. You can't really plan how a next visit will start. It's not genuine that way. Spontaneity is always the best route when you greet a loved one." Ivy chuckled and hugged her again.

"Well, it's bed time, I think," Aunt Gray suggested, seeing how weary her girls were. "Come now, I'll take you to your usual rooms. You can talk all you want in the morning. I think sleep will do you some good."

"Thanks Aunt Gray."

* * *

_The Next Evening_

"Aunt Gray, have you ever fallen in love?"

The question came out of nowhere, falling from Wynnie's mouth, and making Aunt Gray pause in her reading. In fact, it seemed to surprise her.

"What makes you ask that, Wynnie?"

They were all three in the same room from the previous night, where Aunt Gray had been caught singing, enjoying the evening together in silence. She'd been reading aloud to them and had taken a moment to clear her throat when Wynnie had interrupted.

Ivy smiled. "I don't think even I ever asked that question."

Wynnie just shrugged. "I don't know. It just seems... well.. You're what? Nearing seventy? And you've never been married, don't have any kids, and you constantly sing sad songs about lost love."

Aunt Gray smiled. "So do you think I've been in love before?"

Wynnie paused for a moment.

Then she nodded. "Yeah, I think maybe you have been."

Aunt Gray chuckled. "You're right, sweety. I have been in love, still am, in fact."

Ivy looked confused. "Really? Where is he? Why haven't I ever heard this story before?"

Aunt Gray looked at her steadily. "You never asked, dear girl. No, you always asked me to tell you the tales of rings and hobbits." She smiled. "But now that Wynnie's asked, you can hear another, much different story."

Mother and daughter pulled their comfy chairs closer, knowing this would be a good one. Aunt Gray was as famous for her stories as she was for her songs, and she could often have her audience enraptured before she even spoke.

"Well, let's see... You two have both heard the tale of the One Ring, and the Hobbit that carried it." At their nods, Aunt Gray took a deep breath.

"Well, to put it bluntly, it was all true."

They blinked and then glanced at each other.

Aunt Gray set her book on the side and removed her reading glasses.

"Yes, I know what you're thinking. It sounds crazy, I know. I thought it was crazy, too, when I was introduced to the possibility. But if you ever go through what I endured, you'll understand."

Deciding to brush it off for later, Wynnie interrupted. "But what's that got to do with you falling in love?"

"Everything, girl." Aunt Gray took a deep breath. "Because certain characters in that tale have main roles in the tale I'm about to tell you.

"Now before I go on, I'm going to tell you about two races. First, there's the Magitas. A beautiful people that relied on the power of song to keep their world alive. They were skilled in everything but warfare, and that led to their near-destruction.

"Secondly comes the Windoswe. (AN: pronounced windows-way....) They hated the Magitas and their power and beauty. So they struck out at them, slowly killing them off until only a handful remained. The Magitas' songs had been reduced to memories, and after centuries of war even those memories had been passed off a dust on the wind.

"In a poor effort to fight back, the Magitas were turned to living statues. All but one. His name was Argis, and he had learned to fight in the years that the Windoswe had been attacking him and his people. Knowing the power of song had been destroyed, he set out to other worlds to find a perfect voice.

"However, when he finally found the voice, it had been stolen, and the singer was locked away in a tower, taken from her home an doomed to live mute. Until Argis rescued her, and he gave her wings when he found out she was actually a Magitas, of the Wing clan, a race sent to Terra to bring it the power of song.

Wynnie's eyes widened. "Aunt Gray, you were missing for years. Is that when...?"

Aunt Gray nodded and stared out the window... as if she were watching another world, another life...

"Arda... Middle Earth... that's where I found my voice again. Where I fell in love.

"I was young then, and I was still just Easton Loretta Markus... just a scrawny nineteen-year-old girl who was fighting to recapture the song..."

* * *

_Middle Earth, Fifty Years Before_

It was like a dream, passing into another world, and Easton felt like she was just waking. Sluggishly, she moved forward, through the mists and shrouds of the spaces between worlds. A rope was her only lifeline, and it kept her connected to a man that walked in front of her. Unlike her, he looked steady and not at all sleepy, and his gate didn't slow for her when she felt like collapsing. Stubbornly she trudged on, trying to keep the rope slack between them so it wouldn't seem like she was falling behind.

And then they were through. A doorway opened for them and she felt alive again.

"They should be here," Argis explained to her, untying the rope from his belt a moment later. "I sense your voice and their dark magic."

She nodded once and glanced around.

"This is Arda, the world opposite your Terra," he continued on. "It is like the world of the Windoswe against the home of the Magitas. Things are opposite. Your world is far advanced, and Arda is much like the world of the Magitas."

She shrugged and nodded.

"I know only that and little else, so be on your guard."

Again she shrugged and nodded that she understood.

Looking around, Easton decided she like her first look at the world of Arda. The place they'd walked into was gorgeous; they were in a forest of huge trees that made sequoia look like saplings, and she felt the beauty in the very air she breathed. There was peace and serenity, and it put her to some ease.

Only some.

"Don't move. I hear something."

Argis's back was to her and she stuck her tongue out at him. Of course he would hear something in nothing.

She gazed at his back thoughtfully. He was wearing a long black cape that matched his jet black hair, and beneath the cape was a lithe and strong body. He was darkly tanned, and his ears were extremely long and pointed and decorated with a few sterling loops. One side of his face was tattooed in black, in a pattern that she only guessed was a symbol of his people.

His ears were twitching and she sighed silently, knowing he probably was actually hearing something.

And it wasn't long before what he heard made itself known.

She jumped as she felt something prod her back, and her gasp was fairly quiet as she spun about and came face to point with an arrow.

Her gaze traveled up the shaft of the arrow and over the hand that held it, up a strong arm to a hood-covered face. She could make out a chin, but the rest of his features were cast in shadow and she swallowed nervously. Five others like him stood in a half circle before her.

"_You are trespassing in the Realm of the Lady Galadriel. If you are wise, you will turn back_," he spoke to her in some strange language.

She glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw that Argis had disappeared. She looked back at the man holding the bow and arrow and shook her head and shrugged to say she didn't understand.

"You are trespassing in the Realm of the Lady Galadriel. If you are wise, you will turn back," he repeated, and this time in English- Common Tongue, she would later find out.

She bit her lip and took a step back.

Her shriek was simply a silent and sharply expelled breath as the arrow shot past her head and she landed on her butt in surprise. She heard a grunt and turned to see a foul and hideous creature fall to its knees, the shaft of the arrow protruding from its forehead.

Eyes wide, she gasped as another creature appeared. And another, and another, until it seemed they poured from the trees.

"Orcs!" the man cried out and started letting loose arrows at in incomprehensible speed.

Now, Easton had been with Argis for nearly a year, and she'd picked up quite a bit about fighting, but she'd never really been ambushed like this before. All her battles had been one-on-one or two-on-one, not a ton-on-one.

Don't get me wrong. She wasn't helpless. Just a little slow.

It took her a while of scrambling around with an orc chasing her before she finally managed to get her wits about her and attack. She pulled a blade from her belt and turned.

It was no more than a dagger that she fought with, and compared to the huge, butt-ugly sword the orc wielded, it looked useless. But she excelled in using the dagger, and she flipped around swiftly to land it to his throat while he was in mid-swing.

She was wearing a long white cape that brushed the ground and swirled about her ankles as she spun and dodged the blows of on-coming orcs. Underneath it, she was clad in a gray tunic and a homemade pair of jean-shorts that definitely had seen better days. Her feet were wearing faded and worn keds, and one ankle sported a small green-beaded anklet.

And while she fought the last orc left, the men- Elves really- that had found her swore they saw something else under that cape.

Gray feathers?

They weren't sure.

And during the battle, another person had joined.

An odd-looking elf that had sliced the heads from three orcs with a strange silver wire. He was dark and longer of ear than any elf they had ever seen.

And the leader of the Elves, Haldir heard a command from his Lady.

He was to bring the two strangers to her.

* * *

Nearly two hours later, Haldir presented the strangers to the Lady Galadriel and her Lord Celeborn..

Easton barely contained a look of awe as she glanced around her. The flet she stood on with Argis was magnificent, made some sort of golden wood, and seemed to glow with inner sunshine. She tightened her white cloak around her shoulders when she caught several of the Elves staring at her and nervously inched a bit closer to her unofficial guardian's side. She didn't have any weapons now, as the elf called Haldir had confiscated her dagger and her pack, as well as Argis's garrote wire and a few of his other blades. She felt completely defenseless and she didn't like the feeling. Not one bit.

And then the Lady Galadriel, and she blinked in surprise at the astounding beauty that descended the steps before her. And when her eyes met the Lady's, Easton felt like her soul was laid bare for all to see and swallowed past a lump in her throat. Argis didn't seem to feel any of the same discomfort and she could have kicked him for being so damned perfect at controlling his reactions. Shyly, she looked away from the Lady and studied her feet.

"Do not look away from me, Easton, for I know why you come, and I wish to have council with you." She blinked and looked up. She'd heard the voice in her head. It was calm and melodic, like a whispering wind.

"You are both weary from your travels," the Lady spoke aloud. "Come with me now and remove your cloaks, for I would have words with you when you are well-rested." Galadriel turned and motioned for them to follow.

Easton stuck closely to Argis's side, not missing the hostile looks some Elves were shooting her way. Then she stopped when a hand landed on her shoulder.

"The Lady asked that you remove your cloak," came the smooth voice of Haldir and she turned, stricken and shook her head furiously, a nervous lump building in her throat. She clutched the cloak tight to her throat when he frowned at her.

"Easton," came Argis calm voice. She turned her head and met his eyes, anxiety making her cheeks redden. She didn't want to take of her cloak. She didn't want them to see...

"Do it, Easton. We are in their kingdom..." The rest of the words were left unspoken, but Easton knew them.

And we abide by their commands...

She really hated Argis at that moment.

She felt the gaze of the Lady and her Lord on her as her trembling fingers untied the strings at her neck. She gulped inaudibly and let the white material slip to one side and pulled it off with her right hand, folding it over her forearm.

The expected gasp came, although as Elves it wasn't as pronounced. She blushed madly as they stared at her adorned back.

Her tunic was split from bottom to nearly the top, and glimpses of white skin could be seen under the opening that had been made to accommodate a pair of feathered wings that hung from her shoulder blades.

Oh no; they were not wings of beauty. Not all the feathers were in place, and they weren't the beautiful pearly white a of a dove. In fact, it seemed that a third of the feathers were missing or unkempt, and visible skin was scarred and scabbed. They were bony and looked weak as they barely kept themselves folded to her back.

And Easton's head was hung down in embarrassment as the Elves stared at her back, at the wings she so hated sometimes. She wrapped her arms around her middle and stared at her worn sneakers.

"Come then," Galadriel said kindly, noting Easton's discomfort and seeking to ease it. "Haldir, send for a healer." She then turned and led the way up a set of stairs and Easton and Argis followed silently.

* * *

That night, urged by three elven attendants in her room, Easton was soaked in a large tub filled with some pleasant smelling liquid that burned her wings when they insisted she soak the appendages as well. Many bolts of gauze were brought and the joints and sores of her wings were wrapped and bound. She was surprised she could even feel them still. And then she was ushered into a gown of their choosing, one that had an open back and tucked into a chair with a meal set before her.

Easton's stomach rolled over nervously as she stared at the food. She hadn't eaten this much in a while, and the thought of food period sickened her. She pushed at the food a bit until the door to her flet opened and in walked Galadriel, graceful and poised, watching Easton with a kind expression.

"I have spoken with Argis, and he confirmed that you are both Elven kin. I would ask that you do not worry so; we would not harm either of you."

Easton watched her silently, liquid amber eyes shining with mistrust and insecurity.

Galadriel came closer and reached out a strong, perfect hand. Her fingers graced Easton's throat in a gentle brush.

"You cannot speak, and yet you must use your voice to save a people. How strange that often the fate of many relies on such small things."

Easton looked away. She didn't like looking into people's eyes.

"I can say that I do not know whether your voice is really in this realm, but I have felt something is going to happen. So I took it upon myself to call for the aide of past allies, who have answered my summons and will be here within the week's closing. I believe that the fate of many worlds rests on finding your song, Easton."

She looked up to see Galadriel gone. She hadn't even heard her leave the room.

* * *

_Aunt Gray's Home_

Aunt Gray smiled as she watched her Wynnie fall asleep against her side. The girl had crawled closer until she too sat in the window seat. She looked over at Ivy.

"I will continue this story tomorrow." Ivy was half asleep herself.

"It wouldn't be so bad if you'd get on with the story, Aunt Gray."

The older woman chuckled. "But what is a story if you don't build up to it. I told you that I must tell the tale from the very beginning."

As Aunt Gray moved aside and let Wynnie lay against the pillows on the window seats, she pulled her old quilt over the sleeping girl and kissed her forehead.

"Isn't the whole point of a story the ending? And how do you get to the ending without a beginning?"

Ivy chuckled tiredly as they walked to their rooms.

"And besides, isn't it more important whether you believe or not?"

Ivy paused. "It depends on whether it's worth believing."

Aunt Gray looked serious as she said, "The past is always worth believing; it's always worth knowing, too."

Ivy shrugged. "I don't know Aunt Gray. It's pretty unbelievable."

Aunt Gray shrugged in return. "But then again, it is me." And she left Ivy to her room so she could go crawl into her own bed.

* * *

_So, love it, hate it? Like it, dislike it? Review or flame, I don't care. Just tell me what ya think! And I know, I know, I should focus on my other two stories instead of starting new ones, but I can't bloody help it! This story had to be written!_

_Soulfully yours,_

_Gray_


	2. Chapter 2

_Recapturing the Song_

_A Lord of the Rings Fan-Fiction_

_By: Soulful Gray_

_Disclaimer: Same as before; I do not own anything to do with Tolkien's works, although original characters of my own making do appear in this work of fiction._

_Quick Author's Note: Yeah, Easton comes from the future of our world, but not extremely far into the future. This'll explain at least one thing._

_Chapter One

* * *

_

"So are you going to tell us more?" Wynnie asked at the breakfast table the next morning.

Aunt Gray paused in her reading of the morning paper and then set it and her glasses down. A tiny, knowing smile flicked her lips. "Isn't it a bit early?"

Wynnie snorted. "It's morning. Duh."

Aunt Gray cackled. "That's my girl."

"Aunt Gray's right though. Let's wait until at least breakfast is over, Wynnie."

The young girl made a face and then nodded her consent.

A couple of hours later, they were outside in the backyard garden, seated under the window that Aunt Gray always sat at in the evenings. The ocean spray was thick in the air as they seated themselves on the garden benches.

"I planted this garden after my career really kicked off," Aunt Gray said fondly. "Singing has always had a way of making things beautiful."

"Or making money," Ivy said dryly.

Aunt Gray snorted, smirking. "Whichever comes first."

She looked deep in thought for a moment and then started to speak.

"I saw very little of anyone for the next few days after coming to Lothlorien. I never left my flet. And then..."

* * *

_Lothlorien_

Easton peered over the railing that guarded her flet. She stared down at the shining gold of the world below and shuddered.

She hated heights. Kinda silly since she had wings, but she couldn't help but intensely dislike the feeling of being above the ground. The flet made her nervous, though it had proven stable in the last four days.

She'd seen little of the rest of the woods. She had no desire to see anything else. And nobody, save Galadriel, a few servants, or the healers, really ever came to see her. The lack of company was nice in a way. She no longer had Argis practically breathing down her neck, bossing her around.

But still, she was lonely.

Not an uncommon feeling for her, mind you.

She looked over the railing again when she thought she heard a slight commotion. Her rounded ears perked slightly through her straight and shaggy blonde hair.

This might make you wonder; Argis is a Magitas, and so is Easton, but Argis looks Elven and Easton appears more human. Not even Argis could explain to her why she had such human features and wasn't as dark if skin as most Magitas.

Down below her felt, she watched as three men on horse back dismounted and strode towards Haldir, who greeted them with the same cold formality she hadn't ever seen leave his face. Her amber eyes flicked over to the med and one of her eyebrows rose in surprise.

What she'd assumed were three men were really one man, one dwarf, and an elf. She couldn't tell much past that from how high up she was, but she saw that at least.

And then an old man appeared, clad in white, carrying a staff. She blinked and stared at the three. Could these be the allies Galadriel spoke of? She hadn't said anything of who or what they were, so she had to assume they were the ones that would help Easton find her voice again.

She drew a sharp breath as the elf- who had long blonde hair- looked up, straight at her. She was glad her wings always drooped, so he couldn't see them from the ground. He met her eyes and she felt her heart skitter to a halt and then slam into her ribs a half a moment later.

Taking a deep calming breath, she stepped away from the railing.

A knock sounded on her door, and an attendant poked his head in. He avoided looking at her wings and spoke coolly.

"Lady Galadriel requests your presence to greet the travelers."

She nodded and picked up the white cloak some servants had given her.

She was clad in a white dress that had veins of silver shot through it, and a gray sash tied around the middle. The cape was of similar material to the dress and she flipped it about her shoulders to cover her wings.

In the last few days, the healers had struggled over her wings, but for some reason, their ugliness would not go away. A few feathers had grown back, and their downiness was something new, but the older feathers refused to be tamed or groomed back into place. Some of the scabs had been broken and healed, and all were just thin white scars, but they wouldn't be covered by feathers.

Sighing, Easton left her room and followed the attendant down the steps.

* * *

_Legolas_

His elven senses had screamed at him to look up, and he had.

Legolas's gaze met the gaze of a young blonde-haired woman who stared over the railing of a flet at him and his party. And then she moved away, and the Elf's interest was piqued.

Who was she? Granted, he hadn't really hoped to plan on returning to Lothlorien, so he didn't know all the faces, but hers was out of place somehow. And with is keen eyes, he wasn't sure she was even Elven.

Haldir led them to the same platform where he and the rest of the Fellowship had met Galadriel for the first time. Galadriel greeted them in much the same way, her serenity a balm for their weariness.

"Again you walk the Golden Wood," she said calmly. "And again it is during Middle Earth's time of need." She looked around. "Leave us, all save Haldir."

The Elven attendants that often stood there were gone, silently, and Galadriel came forward.

"It is with a heavy heart that I ask you to serve Middle Earth in this way again, but it cannot be helped. I would introduce to you the reason for your coming."

And a moment later, Legolas saw her again.

She was human; at least, Legolas thought she was. She was led by a young elf who disappeared soon after.

Clad in white, she looked uncomfortable as she moved towards them. She was human, he confirmed, lacking the pointed ears of elves. She was tall for a woman (AN: I know that earlier I said she was average, but in ME she's probably tall) and had the strangest cut of hair. It was fairly short, barely reaching past her chin, and was evenly parted down the center, but it was spiky, and one half of her hair seemed longer than the other half. While it was clean and brushed, it still had an untamed air about it.

"The Lady Easton has come to our world in search of her voice."

Easton. What an odd-sounding name. It sounded, boyish, like it should be for a man rather than a woman. And in search of her voice? What did that mean, he wondered.

"What does a voice have to do with the fate of many?" Gimli asked gruffly from beside him.

"Much as the case may be," Gandalf answered and smiled kindly at Easton, who was silent. "Good day to you, young lady."

She nodded and looked away.

She was shy, Legolas thought. No other word for it.

"So what exactly is going on here?" Aragorn asked calmly.

"Nothing that honestly concerns you," came a voice and Legolas spun sharply and came face to face with...

...an elf?

He had to be. He walked silently and had the trademark ears. But they were longer and pierced, and his hair was so dark, it reminded him of Arwen. But his skin was dark as well, and Legolas had never seen a tanned elf.

And he was atrociously ill-mannered.

"Lady Galadriel, I know not why you insist that she has something to do with your world when she doesn't."

The Lady frowned at the elf and Easton looked at him questioningly.

"Argis, I assure you that what you may think is clouded and untrue."

Argis stepped forward and put his hand on Easton's shoulder. "And I assure you, Lady Galadriel, that our staying here has become tiresome and pointless. I have informed you of what we seek, and how are we to-" he stopped in mid-sentence when Easton shrugged from under his hand and moved away. He glared at her coolly for a moment.

"The Windoswe move fast. We have only a short window of time in which we may track them before they move onto the next world."

Easton sighed and tuned out his voice as he argued on as he had in the same manner with every other world they had been to.

It was tiresome. In every world, if they were taken under as guests, he would at first be very strict in following their commands. And then he would change, all of a sudden becoming stubborn and insistent. And if they asked to see her wings, he always commanded her to.

She wondered if he didn't get some cheap thrill out of humiliating her.

As he was embarrassing her now. It wasn't long before the man, the dwarf and the old wizard had joined into the brewing argument.

Legolas watched her withdraw into a silent shell. She clutched tightly at the cape that covered her and he wondered why she wore such an article in fine weather. Occasionally she would wince when Argis would be particularly sharp and her eyes would shift nervously.

Her shoulders trembled a bit, and she bit her lip once in a while. A flush started across her cheekbones and down her slender neck, and he realized her embarrassment was slowly turning to anger.

And then she snapped.

Argis was in the middle of going on about Middle Earth being useless to him when Easton's hand flew out of nowhere and slapped across his mouth. He looked startled and then petulant as he glared at her over her fingers. She glared back, a definite pout coming to her lips. Then she shook her head and drew her hand away, putting it stubbornly on her hips in a fist as it became a staring contest.

Argis snorted. "What do you have to _say_ then, Easton?"

Her eyes widened and she stepped back, dropping her hands and looking down at her feet.

Legolas finally realized why she was so quiet. He realized that they literally had to find her voice again.

Easton, the fate of Middle Earth and many other worlds, was mute.

* * *

_Later_

That went well, Easton though sarcastically as she sat alone in her flet.

Finally, Galadriel had convinced Argis to at least let the four newcomers help find the Windoswe. It hadn't been pretty, with the cool way Argis argued. Haldir and he had exchanged some words, before Celeborn had commanded silence.

Argis really was a prick.

She sighed and reclined comfortably in a chair next to the railing. He had good intentions, saving his people and all, but most of the time he was a stubborn jerk. Obviously nobody had taught him a thing about tact or charm or anything that would probably get him farther than he was today.

She reached over and picked her pack off the floor and started digging through it.

Thank god Galadriel had not asked her to remove her cloak in front of the strangers. She was surprised that Argis hadn't told her to do so either. She swore he was sick and got thrills from seeing her uncomfortable.

She found what she wanted; a Tiny Code Player. She got out her headphones, plugged them in and switched the tiny little box on. (AN: It's kinda like an MP3 Player). A TCP was just an inch-by-inch thing that had only surface space enough for a teensy touch screen and outlet on the side for her headphones. The battery in that thing was an ET-R-Nal, so she never had to worry about recharging or replacing it. And the memory was astounding.

She took out a tiny pointer and scrolled down the screen list to a file that had her name on it. She touched it and then set it to "Play All List."

Closing her eyes, she lost herself in her own voice as it flowed over the headphones.

"_Where am I today,_

_I wish that I knew,_

'_Cause lookin' around, _

_There's no sign of you,_

_I don't remember one jump or one leap,_

_Just quiet steps away from your lead,_

_I'm holding my heart out,_

_But clutching it too,_

_Feeling this short of a love that we once knew,_

_Calling this home when it's not even close,_

_Playing the roll with nerves left exposed,_

_Standing on a darkened step,_

_Stumbling through the light,_

_Others have excuses,_

_I have my reasons why,_

_We get distracted by dreams of our own,_

_Nobody's happy while feeling alone,_

_Knowing how hard it hurts when we fall,_

_Lean another ladder against the wrong wall,_

_And climb high to the highest wrung,_

_To shake fists at the sky,_

_Others have excuses I have my reasons why..._

_(With so much deception,) it's hard not to wander away,_

_(It's hard not to wander away!) It's hard not to wander away!"_

If she had her voice, she would have been singing along with it. So instead, she listened and listened well, catching where she faltered, where her voice might had squeaked a bit. The song was an old one by Nicklecreek, and it was her favorite out of her short debut album. The songs on her TCP were still pretty raw, but she loved listening to them over and over again.

When she'd been locked in that tower, voiceless, the TCP had been her salvation of sorts, a connection to herself.

A connection she intended to rebuild.

As soon as she could get to the Windoswe.

Another song came on and she bobbed her head to the slightly beat-filled song, when a knock came. She jumped and touched the off button moments before the door opened.

She stood and scrambled for her cloak as the old white wizard poked his head in.

Red flushed her cheeks as he caught her with her wings half-covered. But he didn't seem to mind them and didn't stare as he turned that kind gaze on her.

"I didn't wish to disturb you, but I wonder if you have time to humor and old man some company at dinner."

She bit her lip and felt herself relax.

"I've been told you do not join the others in the dining hall."

She shrugged.

"Well, it's as good a time as any, don't you think?" he asked, smiling, holding his arm out to escort her.

She cocked her head to the side and stared at him in puzzlement. She'd expected disgust at her wings and instead he was being the kindest of people, next to Galadriel. And he wanted to escort her to dinner. She blinked.

She must be hanging around Argis too much if she was judging people too much.

Slowly she shrugged on her cloak and inched towards him. She placed a hand on his arm and he smiled and led her from the room.

She didn't know what she was thinking, actually accepting his offer. She didn't want to dine with the other elves; she couldn't stand their grace and beauty and the way a few of them seemed to look down on her. But the wizard, Gandalf put her at ease in a way she hadn't felt in a long time.

He reminded her of her grandpa.

Where that thought came from, Easton didn't know, but she decided it was true. Her grandpa had had the same kind nature, the same twinkle in his eyes. That had to be why she felt at ease with him.

Gandalf looked down at the young lady at his arm. She was so timid; he was surprised she'd accepted his invitation.

She was also very expressive. Her wide amber eyes would shine when she was suspicious or like before when she'd put an admonishing hand over that rogue, Argis's mouth. Her brows drew down and she pursed her lips in a tiny pout when she didn't understand or when she didn't like something. And she bowed her head when she was embarrassed.

"So tell me, my dear, have you seen much of Lothlorien?"

She looked up at him and shook her head "no."

"Well then, perhaps you would like to go with me tomorrow, and I might show you about before we make ready to leave."

She appeared to ponder for a moment and then looked up at him and shrugged.

"Think on it."

She nodded that she would.

They reached the dining hall and she stiffened as they passed through the archway. Her shoulders straightened and Gandalf felt the muscles in her arms bunch up a bit.

"Not to worry dear. They won't bite."

The hall had one long table and Gandalf led her over to the far end, where Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli were seated. She felt the gazes of many on her and felt sweat pop out on the back of her neck as she passed them. Two chairs were conveniently left empty, and he directed her to the one next to Legolas, who held it out for her. She blushed as she sat down and stared at the table a bit as Gandalf moved around to seat himself beside Aragorn.

"Easton, I'm not sure that you caught our names through the din of earlier," Gandalf said. "I am Gandalf the White. The Elf next to you is Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood. Beside him is Gimli, son of Gloin. And seated next to myself is Aragorn, King of Gondor."

She nodded once to each of them.

"A pleasure to meet you," Legolas said politely, as did Aragorn.

Once more she nodded.

Heck, what else could she do?

The meal was served, and Easton relaxed some. Gimli was entertaining, and her silent laughter made her cheeks glow a bit. He started telling tales of his own bravery- as well as "a couple about the elf,"- and it charmed her. Of course, he told all tales with the utmost humility, and her eyebrows would quirk at one of the other three to see if any of his tales were true. Most of them weren't, and made them all the more funny.

When the theme of his stores came to something about a ring, Easton blinked in interest and looked to Gandalf for elaboration. She was glad they were good at picking up her subtle questions, for soon they were all regaling her with the story of the War of the Ring and Sauron and Saruman. Her eyes grew wide as she listened with interest to what had happened to Middle Earth only a few short years before.

Dessert came as the story ended and she picked at it. She heard some conversation down the table and picked up something that sounded like her name. Easton glanced up, and apparently she was right about someone talking to her, because Legolas and Aragorn were looking that way as well.

"Wings?" Aragorn asked. He looked at her and she looked down. Her shoulders tensed and she nodded that yes, she had wings.

She figured Legolas already knew. He didn't seem surprised. But he did seem concerned that the elves down the table were speaking of her.

"Why didn't the Lady mention this?" Aragorn asked.

"We don't know why the Lady does a lot of things," Gandalf said. "And it's probably for the best that we found out on our own."

Easton avoided looking at them. She hated her wings, hated how ugly they were. People judged her for them, thought she was a freak. She scooted her chair back, making to leave, when Legolas stood as well.

"I will escort you," he said softly, offering her a hand to stand.

Not wanting to make a scene- everyone was watching- she reluctantly took his hand and let him help her to her feet.

"Goodnight, Lady Easton," Aragorn said from his seat.

"Sleep well. We will begin preparations for our journey in the morning," Gandalf said.

Gimli just nodded to her.

Legolas led her through the archway and to the stairs that would lead them to her flet.

"You're uncomfortable walking with me," Legolas observed.

How could she deny it? She was nervous around him. Easton nodded.

"Do not be. You should not let the judgment of others control how you act."

They paused outside her flet and she shrugged.

Knowing he probably wouldn't get much farther with her responses, Legolas bowed and bid her good night.

"We rise at dawn," he reminded her. "Sleep well, my lady."

She nodded and moved inside.

He was beautiful, she thought as she removed her cape and lay it across a chair. And he was different from the Lothlorien elves she had met. Many of the elves here were stuck up, and although their disdain was silent, it was stifling. They obviously didn't like outsiders.

But Legolas didn't seemed to be judging her. He hadn't seen her wings yet, but he knew of them and didn't seem to think they made her lower than even a human was to the immortal elves. Nor did Gimli or Aragorn. And Gandalf had seen them and didn't even mention them to her.

Maybe that's why Galadriel had sent for them to aide her in tracking the Windoswe. It was because they were so non-judgmental. Heck, they were all so different from each other, it didn't surprise her.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad in this world.

Maybe it...

She stopped and rubbed at her throat gently. She'd felt a tiny shock of pain roll along it, and it was soon gone, so she dismissed it.

She wondered if she should allow Gandalf to show her some of the immediate Lothlorien. She didn't think she would. Wouldn't it be pointless when she figured she was leaving Middle Earth soon?

The shock of pain came again and she blinked in surprise, rubbing a little more furiously at her skin this time. And then...

Easton dropped to her knees as something shot through her. A deep pain in her chest, near her heart. She clawed at her skin and rolled to her back. It felt like something was rising up inside her; she didn't know what, but it hurt like hell!

She rolled and knocked into a chair. It clattered loudly against the rail and then fell to the floor. She couldn't breathe now! Her wings cushioned her against the floor and she coughed loudly, trying to clear her throat for air.

The door swung open; apparently Legolas had taken his time in leaving and had heard her knock the chair over. He rushed to kneel by her side and grabbed at her hands as she clawed at her own throat.

And then it was over, and Easton blacked out from lack of oxygen.

* * *

"It was the Windoswe," Argis confirmed later as he stood in the corner of Easton's flet, watching a healer put some salve on the scratches she'd put on her own throat. "They're taunting us, trying to get us on their trail."

"Why would they do that?" Aragorn asked as he watched the Magitas Elf closely.

He snorted. "Because they like playing games and leading us around. And they have control over her voice so they can cause her pain."

"I still can't see how it is that a voice could save Middle Earth," Gimli spoke bluntly.

Argis didn't brook an argument when the dwarf spoke, which was surprising. Instead he let the comment pass.

"The voice is powerful in many ways; it can sing a body to sleep, it can soothe tears, it can cause pain to sensitive ears..." Argis paused. "Easton's voice can bring life to a whole people once again. As is the power of the Magitas."

"You are a Magitas," Legolas pointed out. "Why do you not use that same power?"

Argis didn't seem to like this question and made it known with a scowl. "Because in the last centuries, the song has faded from our world. I know not the right song to sing because I cannot feel it. Easton has that power." His voice was bitter, and Legolas picked up on one thing.

Argis was jealous of Easton.

It was almost funny, really, ironic even. Easton was obviously more than a little intimidated by the tall elf, and he was jealous that she was to save his world. He was jealous that she apparently sang so beautifully and he could not.

He looked over at the still figure on the bed and frowned thoughtfully; it seemed silly that singing a song would raise a people, but he supposed stranger things may have happened.

Easton started to awaken a moment later and when her eyes were fully open she stare at them blankly. It took her a little bit to realize what was going on and she abruptly sat up when she did.

They'd all seen her wings as she lay on the floor and in the bed, but no that they straightened out behind her, Gimli, Aragorn, and Legolas really saw what it was that sent tongue wagging about Lothlorien. They were hideous appendages that looked quite useless; the bandages were falling off at the joints and hung down, making them look more banged up than they already were. It was little wonder that she tried to hide them from everybody.

Against the sharp command of the healer, Easton launched from the bed, heedless of her wings- which weren't that big- and headed to the railing. She nodded her head sharply at Argis and pointed towards the south, her other hand gripping the railing for support.

The healer followed and put a hand to her shoulder. She shrugged it off abruptly and angled a glare at him before again pointing south.

Argis raised an eyebrow.

Exasperated and frustrated, she pointed at her throat and then back to the south.

"They head south?" he asked incredulously.

She nodded.

"Impossible. I sense their power to the north. You need your rest Easton. Your delusional." He turned around and made to leave the flet.

A burst of strength coursed through Easton and she growled deep in her throat, though it was a silent growl. She glared at his back and then leapt forward, snagging a fistful of his shirt and yanked him back.

The force of his body falling back into Easton's was enough to snap the rail behind them and they went careening to the ground. The other occupants shouted in alarm and Argis gave out a choked cry as they fell.

Easton kept a hold on his upper body and glared at a point in the sky as she opened her wings. What good they would do, she didn't know, but she was determined to try.

And low and behold, a thermal caught her scrawny wings and carried them up. She urged the bruised appendages into motion and flapped them once, then twice, and soon they had floated above the flet they'd fallen from.

Easton was bound and determined to get Argis to listen to her. She _knew _the Windoswe were headed south. She could feel it in her bones, but he refused to listen to her silent pleas. He was such a jerk! She was tired of his quiet disdain and his inability to accept any help from her. She was surprised he'd taught her to fight even! It made her furious that he thought she was incompetent. She wondered why he even bothered to bring her along. Why couldn't he have just found the voice on his own?

This world was different. She could feel her voice here, and she could sense the Windoswe as well. Why wouldn't he for once, just once, listen to her?

She spun him around and held him up in the air by the front of his shirt. Easton had had it. She glared down at him and then spun to face the south. She angled her head at it and then looked back down.

"We're going north," he choked out.

She shook her head and let him drop. Not good enough.

* * *

_Aunt Gray's House_

"It's getting late. Let's get some dinner," Aunt Gray said, pausing the story.

"What!" Wynnie cried in dismay. "You can't stop there!" Her stomach growled.

"Your belly's protesting. We'll continue later after we get something to eat. Who's up for Chinese?"

Glumly, Ivy and Wynnie agreed to pause for dinner and they headed inside to get their things and head to town.

Ivy drove, and Aunt Gray stared out the window. She felt a slight pain in her throat and smiled sadly. It was a ghost of a pain and it reminded her of the story she was telling them.

She looked over at her two girls and the pain went away under the happiness she felt that they were with her.

* * *

_So, how was it? Did you love it, hate it? Please tell me! And tell me if I need to improve on anything! Feedback is much appreciated! Oh! And thank you to_ **DarkAngelPearl **_for being my first-ever reviewer on this story! gives a huggle_

_Soulfully yours,_

_Gray_


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